"No, that's just what I don't understand. I can't understand his caring. I can't understand him. I can't understand anything." Her voice shook.
"Poor darling, I know it's hard, sometimes. Still, you do know what he is."
"I know what he was—what I thought him. It's hard to reconcile it with what he is."
"With what you think him? You can't, of course. I suppose you think him something too bad for words?"
Anne broke down weakly.
"Oh, Edith, why didn't you tell me?"
"What? That Wallie was bad?"
"Yes, yes. It would have been better if you'd told me everything."
"Well, dear, whatever I told you, I couldn't have told you that. It wouldn't have been true."
"He says himself that everything was true."